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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162307">Popcorn Ceilings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Maybe's 2020 Whumptober [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:15:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?<br/>Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake &amp; Barbara Gordon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Maybe's 2020 Whumptober [23]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Popcorn Ceilings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On one hand, Tim knows that he needs to sleep. On the other, everyone needs him. His body is simultaneously fuzzy and made of lead. He’s not even sure what’s real anymore. Every time he has a moment to decompress, somebody needs him. That’s not to say Tim blames them, though. A memory of Barbara flashes through his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You need to set boundaries, Tim. Otherwise, they’ll just keep plowing through them without realizing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tim had tried to argue with that sentiment before pushing her away for a week. Now, Tim can see how that would be true. He caves to anything people need, except for those he has vendettas against. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes trace the popcorn ceiling of his apartment, unable to do much else. Warmth radiates from old bruises and cuts, nesting in his torso. He’s chained to the bed, fatigue having been trailing him for God knows how long. He can’t make an effort to get under the covers, let alone change.</span>
</p>
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